Caged
by The X-Woman
Summary: How do you know if you're looking in or looking out, if all you can see are the bars?


CAGED

By the X-Woman

http:geocities.com/starlightstudio1121

**********************************************

Disclaimer: The Characters in the Pretender do no belong to me. They are property of the creators, actors and producers.

Rating: PG-13 (language and adult situations)

Author's Note: This fic is a response to Mel's "I don't love him" challenge at Pretender Challenges. Thanks to her for the inspiration! Also, thanks to my goddesses, Nance, Brittnay, and Heidi, for editing, feedback, putting up with my endless questions, MTW-lovin', and sooo much more. 

Summary: How do you know if you are looking in or looking out, if all you can see are the bars?

**********************************************

"Where have you been?"
    

Miss Parker stopped in her tracks, the final step of her stiletto heel hitting the linoleum floor and echoing through the room. She stopped her pacing and turned carefully, examining Sydney, who stood in the doorway, hands on his hips.

"Last time I checked, that wasn't any of your business." The last thing Parker wanted to deal with right now was Sydney's cross-examination. He knew perfectly well where she had been; shit, by now, the whole Centre knew. She felt her throat tighten and gritted her teeth.

"I heard, Miss Parker. They brought him in ten minutes ago. Did you lead them to him?"

She grasped her hands together, feeling the tear-shaped diamond of her mother's ring dig into her left hand. The pain was dull and incomplete; surreal, and she still couldn't tell if she was alive. Maybe this was all a dream; maybe she would wake up, any minute, and find herself lying next to him, in that little cabin, with the sun streaming through the blinds. 

But no. With or without the pain, she knew the feeling in her heart. This was no nightmare she would wake up from. This was real. Far too terrifyingly real.

"Are you going to go see him?" Her throat was tender and her voice was small; she felt like a child again, trying to tell Sydney something that she couldn't form into words. He had always been more of a father to her than her real father, but she found she could rarely ever truly talk to him, and feel as if she was being coherent. There was no one she could talk to; no one now.

"Yes, as soon as they let me. They are examining him."

She scoffed, feeling her stomach lurch. "By the time they're done, there won't be much left to talk to."

She moved toward the desk, collapsing into a chair, the weight of all her troubles pushing her down. Sydney stared at her from where he stood, and crossed his arms.

"Tell me. What happened."

She shook her head, raising her hand up to her forehead. The tightness in her throat became too much to bear, and she felt a single tear escape. She tried to blink the rest away, and looked up at Sydney, her eyes wide with a terror that was foreign, yet too familiar. He had seen that look before; that same look, years ago, in the eyes of another young woman who had finally realized what her life was, and the fear she felt, and the realization that she had nowhere left to go. He had never wanted to see that look again, especially in the eyes of that woman's daughter.

"I had just got to the cabin. He was there, waiting, like always. But there was something different. It was quiet; it was always quiet, but there was something different about this quiet." She shuttered a sigh, and turned away, examining the blank wall behind her as if it were a window overlooking a beautiful forest. "I guess my phone lines must have been tapped. We were always so careful; I didn't think anyone would be listening. He opened the door, and suddenly they were there, all of them. The sweepers, Lyle… just smiling at me." She punched the desk weakly, forcing herself to her feet. "Lyle… he said thank you to me as they took Jarod away. Goddmmit, Syd, the little bastard _thanked _me." She covered her face with her hands, and Sydney resisted the urge to touch her, to try and heal her. He knew he never could.

She looked up at him, eyes wide, examining every inch of his face with a hurried terror. "When they pushed him into the car, he looked at me, and I knew what he thought. He thought I betrayed him. He thought I had given in and led them straight to his doorstep."

"And you did, sis." Both Miss Parker and Sydney spun around, startled by Mr. Lyle's sudden appearance into the room. "And we are very thankful for the contribution you have made to the Centre." He smiled, a smile Parker always thought made him look like a crocodile. Lyle Crocodile. Her stomach lurched.

"What can we help you with, Mr. Lyle?" Sydney's usually calm voice was laced with something – anger maybe – and Parker took a step forward, meeting Lyle's gaze.

"Just thought you would like to know, Jarod has been demanding to see you both. He's been calling you name for hours, sis… Your _first _name." He came up to her, slowly, barely giving Sydney a glance as he approached his twin. He gazed into her eyes, and Parker felt her stomach rumble again. "I didn't realize you two had become…" his voice lowered to barely a whisper, and her scalp crawled at his voice; "so… close… close enough for him to call you something so… personal. Did you ever let Thomas call you-"

She hadn't thought about it before her hand struck his face, and suddenly, Sydney was holding his arms down, pulling Mr. Lyle away from her.

"Can I see Jarod, or no, Mr. Lyle? Please answer and leave; I think you're done here." Lyle yanked himself free of Sydney's grasp, straightened his jacket, and took a few more steps toward Parker.

"Keep this in mind, _sis_." He hissed. "I know what you were doing at that cabin; I know you didn't go there to retrieve Jarod for the Centre. I know all your dirty little secrets." Parker felt her face flush, and found herself wishing Sydney would do something, though she didn't know what. "I put my ass on the line for you, to put you in good favour with Raines. You owe me – I own you now."

Her face flushing more, Parker wanted to strangle the little bastard. She approached him, filling in the distance between them, until their noses almost touched. 

"Now, you keep this in mind, _bro_. You don't own anything. _Especially _me. I've lost it all Lyle… I'm strung out, and I have nothing left to lose." She grabbed his chin in a look between all her fingers, and wrenched his neck so their foreheads touched, staring into his eyes, piercing his empty soul with her blazing green eyes. "So unless you want to find a lot more unattached than your other thumb, I'd advise you cancel the pity parade and mind your own business. Tell Raines what you want; regardless my deal still stands. You have Jarod; I'm going back to Corporate."

She couldn't believe the coldness in her words even as she said them, and she pulled away from Lyle, turning her back. She heard him mutter to Sydney, and did not turn back until she heard his steps disappear out the door. She felt Sydney's hand on her shoulder, and she shrugged it away, crossing her arms and walking to the window.

"Did you mean that, Parker?" His voice was gentle and stern, the same voice he used with her when she was child, having caught her in one of her many lies. "Is that all this is?"

She spun around, facing him, steeling her heart against the look in his eyes. 

"That's everything _it_ is, Sydney. Jarod was my ticket back to Corporate; he always has been. I have wanted nothing in the past six years more than to get out of here." 

"So you will turn away your feelings, everything you have learned, everything Jarod has taught you-"

"And what has he taught me, Sydney? How to chase my tail? How to be betrayed by everyone I ever trusted?"

He rested his hand gently on her cheek, and shook his head. "Has he taught you those things, Miss Parker… or have you taught them to yourself?" Her mouth fell open, unable to find the words to answer – if she could answer. 

"Why were you going to see him?"

She pulled away, walking to the desk in the center of the room and leaning against it. "We've been seeing each other for the last three months. I don't know why… just, one day I came home, and there he was. Suddenly… suddenly things didn't seem so difficult anymore."

She froze, suddenly realizing what she was saying. She grabbed her coat off of the back of the chair, draping it over her shoulders, and heading to the door.

"Parker, where are you going?"

"Somewhere. Anywhere." She turned back, examining him, and pulled her coat close around her. "I just need to get away from everyone… from him, most of all."

With that, and without another glance, she tore through the doors and vanished into the hall. Sydney turned away, feeling his insides turn over at the thought of her going home by herself; at the thought of Jarod alone in his jail cell. And the thought of him, Sydney, standing alone in his office; as alone as he had ever been. He chuckled mirthlessly, falling into the chair and picking up the phone. As he dialed the number the only thing he could think was, _Jarod may be behind bars, but he is freer than me… or Miss Parker._

The phone rang three times before the familiar voice picked up.

"Broots, this is Sydney. I am going to need your help…"

**********************************************

It was three days away from work and without sleep before she was too tired to think up an excuse not to come in, and, clutching a cigarette in her hand, she walked into the dark doors of the Centre. She took a drag from the cigarette, the almost ancient feeling filling her lungs, and she closed her eyes, blowing the smoke out of her nose.

"I thought you quit?"

The last of the smoke caught in her throat and her eyes flew open, and she coughed violently, her lungs feeling constricted and the air feeling thick. She coughed harder, the cigarette dropping from her hand and dropping to the slick ground, ash gathering about it. As the coughing wore off, she looked up, her eyes watering violently, and she tried to wipe them away.

"Christ, Broots, if you ever sneak up on me like that again-"

"I'm sorry!" Broots, looking concerned, swept down and snatched the cigarette from the ground. She snatched it out of his hands, holding it between her fingers, and narrowed her eyes at him mercilessly.

"What do you want?" She asked slowly.

"Umm, Sydney sent me to get you. Says it urgent. It's… it's about Jarod."

Frowning, she dropped the spent cigarette butt onto the floor again, grinding it into the pristine tile with the toe of her shoe.

"What else is new?" She muttered, and they started down the hallway toward Sydney's office. Broots kept only a step ahead of her, avoiding looking in her direction and letting his eyes wander nervously everywhere else. Fed up and not in the mood to play his games, Parker rolled her eyes and spoke asked roughly, "Damn it Broots, _what is it_?"

Broots sighed, wringing his hands. "I was just wondering… well, um…"

"Spit it out, Broots."

"Umm…" He took a breath. "Just hoping that you were okay."

It wasn't the words, but the tone of his voice that made her still her steps. He stopped too and turned to her, and she dropped her gaze, unable to meet his. 

__

I know that you have no respect for me…

Broots, I do respect you.

She looked up at him, seeing, for the first time, not just the mousy computer geek that she terrorized since she could remember… instead, she saw something different there. Something she had not seen in a long time.

A friend.

"I'm not, Broots." She told him gently. He looked, confused at her, and she placed her hand uncomfortably on his shoulder. "But I… appreciate your concern."

He nodded, obviously taken aback by her honesty, and they continued their journey down the hall to Sydney's office.

The man was sitting at his desk, absentmindedly reviewing notes, and his attention turned quickly to Broots and Miss Parker as they entered the room. He stood immediately, gathering a pile of papers and brushing past them, muttering, "Follow me."

They walked back down the hallway and out the doors, and before any of them said a word they were down by the beach, the sun beating lightly down upon them, and the gentle waves covering up the sound of their timid voices. Sydney spoke first.

"I've seen him."

"What?" Parker's voice was barely audible.

Broots looked almost alarmed at her tone, and added, "I got him past security. It wasn't to hard…" He smiled gently, and she sneered.

"You snuck him in? Why?" She looked at Sydney, confused. "Why didn't they let you see him?"

"I thought you knew." She shook her head, and Sydney frowned. "I've been officially cut from the Pretender project. Apparently, Mr. Raines was not happy with the way I assisted in finding Jarod."

"Where are they sending you?"

He shrugged. "All I know, Miss Parker, is that it looks like you are not the only one getting out."

She shook her head. "Why are you telling me this? Did Jarod tell you something important?"

Broots' smile faded, and he looked at Sydney, who looked just as confused.

"Well, Miss P… if you wanted to see him, I could-"

"What makes you think I want to see him!" Her voice was hard, crueler, for once, than she meant it to be. Both Syd and Broots looked alarmed, and she regretted not having transferred back to Corporate immediately.

"He wants to talk to you, Miss Parker. And I know you want to talk to him." Sydney tilted his head at her, and she clenched her teeth.

"The only thing I want, Syd, is a cigarette."

She pulled one out, and Broots and Sydney exchanged glances as she lit it. Broots sighed, and muttered something about having extra work to do before he headed off and disappeared up the beach, and Syd looked at Parker softly.

"Walk with me, Miss Parker."

They started down the beach, and Parker watched the waves lap gently up across the sand. She never realized how beautiful the ocean was, how unpredictable, torrid, and gentle. She had always taken growing up on the beach for granted. She recalled, when she was younger, running across the beach with her mother, laughing and chasing in the sun. Chasing. But instead of out of need, or hate, or responsibility, it was all a game. A game she could end anytime with a hug from her mother and a water fight that would ruin their best Sunday clothes. She remembered being a teenager, walking this beach alone and wondering what it would be like to have her mother with her, to chase her again. She also remembered wondering what it would be like to run with Jarod, to play with him outside, instead of only in the confines of the Centre. She shuddered even in the warm breeze, flicking her almost new cigarette into the ocean. Sydney looked at her.

"He wants to see you. I would have assumed, after all you have been through together, that you would feel the same."

She shook her head, pushing her hair from her face. "I don't feel anything, Sydney. I haven't felt anything for a long time."

"Jarod said the same thing." She crossed her arms, and Sydney placed his hand on her arm, rubbing gently. "Except, he said you did feel. When you were with him. He said he saw it in your eyes."

She felt her throat stick, and she closed her eyes briefly. "Exactly how much did he tell you?"

"Enough. Enough to know that you two shared something." She looked away, and he reached out, guiding her chin so that her eyes met his. "Enough to know that you loved him."

She shook her head, and pulled away, turning to face the water. He came up behind her, resisting the urge to take her into his arms and comfort her, to try to bring her back from the edge of the abyss she had spent so long teetering upon, always too close, too stubborn, to fall. He moved in front of her to try to look into her eyes, but she continued to stare into the ocean. 

"You don't have much time left." He muttered. "He's scheduled for the renewal wing in the next 12 hours, and then we'll have no idea what he remembers." He tried to put comfort in his voice. "Don't fear your emotions. Don't make the same mistake now that you have been making for years." 

"I don't love him, Syd. I… I don't."

"Don't, or can't, Miss Parker?"

Parker refused to meet his gaze. "You don't understand. Jarod and I… we don't know how to love. When you grow up the way we did, in the world we did, love is not real. It's something out of the story books my mother used to read me."

"You know that's not true. It's why you and he reached out to each other as children. I saw the friendship that developed between you, the bond you found." He breathed, and Parker found herself looking into his eyes. "That's what love is, Miss Parker. It's not trained, it's not taught. It's felt."

She sighed, and shook her head. "Fine." She heard her voice say. "I'll see him."

**********************************************

By the time Broots had sabotaged the system to get Miss Parker through the door; she had changed her mind. But the look in Sydney's eyes told her it was too late to turn back, and so she entered the door of the interrogation room, not sure what to expect.

He sat in the chair at the table, his hair hung about his face. He eyes were dark and sunken, and even having not reached the Renewal Wing; it looked almost as if they had already robbed back his soul. Her stomach tightened, though she swore she saw a glimmer of something – hope maybe – when his eyes met her own.

"Jarod." She gave one of her classic, forced smiles, but he didn't return it.

"Miss Parker." She flinched, suddenly aware of how right it had felt when they were alone, and he had whispered her first name. Part of her had never wanted to hear him call her 'Miss Parker' again. She wanted to be her first name; what her mother had given her, what her mother had made her; not the name that the Centre had given her, and not what they had forced her to become.

She pulled up a chair and sat down across from him, suddenly realizing she felt as tired as he looked. She reached her hand out across the table, and he continued to stare at her, not offering his hand back. He tilted his head, his brown eyes boring into her.

"You betrayed me." He shook his head. "You told them…"

"No." Her voice wavered, and she raised her hand and pressed it to her forehead, in her heart aware of how important the truth was to her. "I didn't, Jarod. I would never have betrayed you."

He let his breath free, and buried his hands into his arms, which were crossed over the table. "I knew," he muttered. "I knew they lied to me, I knew you would never…"

"Stop it." She put her hand over his, and he lifted his head to meet her eyes, his own eyes filled with tears. Her heart tightened within her, and she shook her head, pulling away from him and standing up, crossing her arms across her chest, as if to protect her heart from the only man she believed could take it from her. Or perhaps to force herself not to give it to him. "Sydney tells me you're scheduled for renewal tonight."

"Yeah." He sighed, pushing his dirty hair away from his face, revealing a slightly bloody temple, darkened even more by a bruise. She came around the table, reaching out to him, and setting her fingertips lightly on his face. 

"I'm sorry, Jarod. I don't know what else to say… it's all I know how to say."

He reached up and grasped her hand into his own, pressing her fingers against his lips. He opened his hand and examined the tear-shaped diamond that sat on her right ring finger – her mother's ring. He looked up at her, shaking his head.

"I never wanted to see you as sad as your mother." 

She pursed her lips, turning her glance away for a moment before meeting his eyes again. He let her hand go and let his eyes fall to examine the table, and Parker moved back around, sitting across from him again, taking in a deep breath.

They sat in that silence for minutes, until Jarod spoke. "I remember… I remember the day your mother died." She let her breath escape loudly, and he kept his eyes drawn away from her. "Sometimes, when I have nightmares about the Centre, I still hear your screams. I wanted to help you then, but I didn't know how." He frowned. "I'm sorry you never truly found out about your past."

She nodded. "And I'm sorry you never found your mother. Or learned who you really are." 

He laughed. "I learned enough… enough for them to want me to forget it." He tilted his head. "And, even as I was running from you, I managed to find you, too." He grabbed her hand. "There was a while there – a few years – when I was sure I had lost your forever."

"And I thought I had lost myself." She shook her head. "I guess you'll forget everything, won't you?"

He winced, and picked at a spot on the table. "I don't know. Part of me hopes I will… and part of me hopes I'll remember."

"If you remember, they'll torture you. Sydney can't stop them anymore." She shook her head. "No one can."

"I know." He leaned toward her. "When you told Sydney you would be glad to bring me back dead, I know you didn't mean it."

Annoyed, she scowled. She hated when he assumed her thoughts. He did that far too often. "Do you?"

__

The Centre wants him back alive…

… Preferably

"Why do you do that?" He remarked, his voice sharp. She scowled, crossing her arms.

"Do _what_."

"Say things like that. Act like that. You're so afraid of being read, of showing your feelings. You don't hate me, Miss Parker. I know you never did. You wouldn't have wanted to see me dead. Why did you say you would?"

She looked at him, shaking her head. "Jarod, I-"

He leaned forward, a look in his eyes that was familiar; the look he always gave her before he did something he knew would piss her off. "I don't want excuses. When did you become what you are now? I remember, too clearly, a timid, quiet, beautiful little girl; one who was not afraid to smile, to talk about her mother, to sneak around her father so she could be with the lonely little boy she pitied."

She gaped, taken aback by his words. Was that what she was, once? Long ago, in a time with her mother, a time that seemed foreign. She tried to remember being the way Jarod had described her, but she couldn't. She barely remembered the time before her mother's death, the day she learned that love meant only loss, and loss meant pain, and if she never loved again, maybe she would never hurt again. And her father encouraged it, told her to "control" her emotions, not let them control her. Had he learned that lesson once too? Was that why he never truly loved Catherine?

But he had loved his daughter.

Hadn't he?

"You know," she pushed the hair from her face, tilting her head at him. "The day after my mother died, I went to see my father in his office, and he asked me how I was doing… like nothing had happened."

__

What are you doing here, Angel?

  
I needed to see you Daddy. Why are you working?

Angel, I have a lot of work-

"I exploded. I scared myself. I had never yelled like that. I told him I hated him. That it had been his fault my mother was gone and that if he had shown any sort of love for her, if he had cared at all, she would still be there." She shook her head, and looked at Jarod, surprised at his intense look, the way he watched her talk, as if he cared about what she had to say. It was funny; she had never told him these things, although they had talked about her mother more often than she cared to recall. It seemed that, even when they were together, they exchanged words, but never truly _talked_. She wished she could take that back, wished she could have said the things she needed to when she had the chance. It was a regret that was far too familiar.

"What scared me the most, Jarod, is that when I looked into his eyes, I knew I meant it. I felt nothing for him. And it was along time before I learned to feel for him again."

"And even when you did, you hid it." Jarod finished. She nodded, and turned away, sighing. That had been the first time she ever had told anyone that story. She wasn't even sure if her father had ever remembered the incident. The incident that had claimed her humanity; that had forced the chain reaction of events that molded her into what she was today. 

"I never told Daddy how much I loved him again. I mean, never really." She rolled her eyes gently, pursing her lips. "I said the words, but I never meant them."

"And ever since then, you have always said the exact opposite of what you feel." She leaned back, somewhat annoyed at his finishing her thoughts; or perhaps annoyed because he was right. "I know you, Parker. The feelings are there, you are just afraid to let anyone see them; that if you let them out they will only be used against you. So the only emotion you ever display is anger, because it's the only emotion they cannot use against you." She sneered, and stood up, turning her back to him. He laughed mirthlessly.

"The children that were taken from their parents and raised here… they weren't the only prisoners within these walls." She felt his soft eyes continue to examine her back, and closed her own, trying to recall a time when his eyes roamed her body, not for pity, but for want. Perhaps even for love. "Maybe you could have left the Centre to go to the store, or walk on the beach, or sleep in your own home. But you never really left here; I was right was I told you back on that island. You are much or a prisoner of the Centre as I ever was, or will ever be." He shook his head. "The only difference is, I fought my way out… and you stayed behind."

She turned back around, slamming her hand down on the table with a strength she didn't know she had, and leaned herself against it. "What do you know about my life, or my feelings? I'm not trapped here, I could leave anytime."

"Like you tried to leave to be with Thomas?"

She buckled, her face falling at the name. He had to bring Thomas up, didn't he? She bit back tears, and pushed her weight from the table. "This was a mistake, coming here." She shook her head, and headed to the door. "I hope you forget everything. I hope for our sakes."

"You know I am right, Parker. You know that even when you leave this room, you're still trapped."

She paused at the door, turning back to face him, unable to stop a single tear from cascading down her face. This was too much. Jarod had made her cry too many times. Was this his goal? To make her display some emotion other than anger, so he could settle with sadness? She wiped the tear away.

"I know who's a prisoner and who is not, Jarod. And when I was a child, I saw you in that cage. And I understand… I understand why you left. Why you escaped. I couldn't blame you for that. I did see the world you lived in; my entire childhood was only an image of you in that cage. But you were the only one in the cage, Jarod. I've always been free."

He shook his head, and stood up carefully. He walked to the door slowly, wincing slightly in pain, and she watched him approach her. He stood a few away, examining her with patient eyes, and reached out, taking her hand into his own. To her surprise, she let him.

"How can you know if you're outside the cage looking in, or in the cage looking out, if all you can see are the bars?" She froze, unable to speak, to breathe, and he set his free hand on her cheek, stepping closer to her. "If anyone has been trapped all these years, Parker, it's you. We have both held the keys to our cages in our own hands; but only I ever had the strength to use mine."

"Out of the two of us, you were always the strongest." She whispered. 

He wiped another stray tear from her face. "And you were always the most bold. I only wish you were not afraid to be strong, too." He filled the remaining space between them and their lips met. He kissed her carefully, gently, and somehow the need that had filled his heart whenever he was near her these last few months was gone, replaced with a sort of sadness. With the realization that this was, probably, the last kiss they would ever share. And a kiss that he would have forgotten by this time tomorrow, when he would have lost everything, when he would be nothing but a Pretender again.

He broke the kiss, and this time Miss Parker examined his face. She set her fingers against his cheek, and his smiled at her, giving her one more, quick kiss.

"That's my girl. You promise me. You promise me that you'll use the key. Leave, run like I did."

Her heart sunk, and she shook her head. She didn't want to admit it, but she was afraid. Where would she go? What could she do? She couldn't go home; they would find her there, and now not even her father could protect her, if he ever would have. The first time she ever realized she did want to leave the Centre, she had a reason: Thomas. He was her home, her place to go. And now, she couldn't even find Jarod and run with him. She would be alone.

And what about the children? The reason her mother died; her mother's "unfinished business." Could she turn her back on that, forget the things she had seen, the atrocities she saw? Could she go on with her life knowing that there would be more Jarods, and more Parkers, knowing that the man she loved was still trapped behind these walls; could she ignore that? Her mother couldn't, and she died for it. She died for Jarod. Parker had never understood quiet why. Until now.

"I can't make that promise." She said, realizing it had been the first time she had told the truth in a long, long time. "Not while the Centre still stands. Not while they keep you here. I can't just forget my past. You have to understand that, it's what has driven you all these years." He nodded. "I can't have let my mother's death be in vain."

The look in his eyes told her that he did understand, and her heart lifted at the thought. He rested his hand on her hair, stroking it back, and smiled. "Work from the outside. Fight them that way… your mother tried it from the inside and failed; learn from her mistakes. I beg you to." He held her head in his hands, leaning his forehead against her own. "I don't want to lose you. Not for this."

"We've already lost each other, Jarod. The Centre's made sure of that."

"They've done all they can to keep us apart, ever since we were children. Maybe they have succeeded; but we can still be happy. We can still be free."

She stiffened suddenly, the tone in his voice making shiver crawl down her spine. "What do you mean we, Jarod? You've lost your freedom again."

He pulled her close to him so that their bodies touched, and while he kissed her, this time a kiss filled with passion and want, she wondered if he was going to make love to her right there. She felt his hand snake down her back and lift her shirt, and she felt him pull her gun out of her waistband. 

Her eyes flew open, but he kept her in the embrace. She struggled to get away and he let her go, and she stepped back the few steps she could before hitting the door, and watched him examine the gun carefully.

Parker suddenly felt fearful, and she remembered that day, during the first year she chased him, when he saved her life right before sticking a flare gun into her face.

__

You were going to use that on me?

I still am.

But the look in his eyes had made her not fear him. She had known, even then, that he wouldn't shoot her; she only played along, let him tie her up and run off. Maybe Sydney had been right. In her heart, she had always wanted Jarod to get away. She wanted him to be free.

He smiled at her, and handed the gun to her, and she looked at him, confused.

He nodded.

"Remember when I told you I would have rather died than been brought back to the Centre?" She nodded back. She did. It had been the first time he had taken her to the cabin. The first night they made love.

"I still mean it."

Her mouth dropped open. "Are you asking me to kill you?"

His face softened, and his eyes grew dim. "Yes."

She cringed at his honesty. "Please. It's the only way I can be free now." He grabbed her hand that wasn't holding the gun, and looked into her eyes. 

"Please, Parker."

"No!" She wrenched her hand free, and gaped at the gun in her other hand. "I will _not_ be your vehicle for suicide!"

He shook his head. "You don't understand. When I'm here, I'm already dead. We all are."

She tossed the gun onto the table as if it burned her hand, suddenly unable to hold it. Parker pushed back Jarod and stormed to the other side of the room, spinning around to stare at him from where she stood.

"Then _run _with me, Jarod! You've escaped before, come and gone as you pleased. We'll go together!"

"You know that's not possible. They're watching me more closely than ever before." He sighed. "And there's no time. I get renewed this evening."

She was suddenly on her doorstep again, all those years ago, with Thomas' body beneath her. She closed her eyes to banish the image, and then looked at Jarod. "I won't watch you die. And I will not kill you."

"I'm already dead, Parker. Don't you understand that?"

"_Stop it_!" She yelled louder than she meant to, and Jarod froze, alarmed at her tone, though she didn't know why. She started to cry again, and his face fell. He gathered her into his arms and she sobbed into his chest as she had never done before. "I won't lose you too, Jarod. I won't. I've lost too much already… I listened to my mother die… I found Tommy's cold body on my front porch… and I watched my father jump from a plane… I won't lose you too, not now."

He held her until her sobbing subsided, and he lifted her chin up so he could see her eyes. "The first time I saw you, Parker, I thought you were the most beautiful girl I had ever seen."

"Jarod, I was the _only_ girl you had ever seen."

He laughed. "I know. And I never needed another one after you."

"Run with me, Jarod. Please. I know we can… we have time. I'll talk to Broots, and to Sydney. They know about us, they can help us." 

He stoked back her hair, and smiled. "There she is."

She frowned. "Who?"

"The little girl I knew, long ago. The little girl who still had her mother, and her soul."

Their lips met again, and this time he did make love to her, there within the Centre walls. And, for just a moment, they were free.

**********************************************

There were only two hours left before Jarod was scheduled for the renewal wing when the plan finally got off the ground. Broots had spent most of morning creating two fake birth certificates, fake identification cards, and forging social security numbers, all while trying to avoid Centre security. Parker and Syd whispered over Sydney's desk, trying to work out a plan to get both her and Jarod out quietly. Sydney suggested bringing Angelo in on the plan, but Parker refused, claiming she still didn't fully trust Angelo. However, she truly didn't want to jeopardize his safety by bringing him in on a plan that, if botched, could end in all of their deaths. Even after her conversation with Jarod, Parker still wasn't sure she could turn over a leaf so quickly and start saying what was really on her mind. 

When the plan was worked out and everything was arranged, Broots hacked into the system and looped the camera feed from the room Jarod was in, and prepped the computer to do that to every camera in Jarod and Parker's path. Finally, all that was left was to fetch Jarod and escape; and Parker was to do that all on her own.

Sydney walked her to his office door, and Broots met them there, handing her their fake identification cards. 

"Good luck, Miss Parker." He said sadly. Parker reached out and took him into a hug, and after stiffening with surprise, he returned the embrace.

"Thank you, Broots." She said, and that was all he needed.

Sydney hugged her then, kissing her forehead gently. She smiled at him and whispered "thank you" to him as well.

"It's still not to late for you two to come with us," she told them gently.

Sydney smiled and Broots shook his head. "I have a little girl to take care of, Miss Parker. And as long as I know she's safe, that's all the freedom I need."

"And I have my own unfinished business to attend to." Sydney added. "But we will be here, waiting, for when you return, to finish what your mother could not." She thanked them both again, and realized how hard it was to leave the room; to say goodbye to the only two friends she had ever had.

Five minutes later she was slipping into the room where Jarod sat, waiting for her, his eyes sparkling with a light she had feared they had lost. He hugged her deeply and she kissed him, and they slipped again from the room quickly.

"What's the plan?" Jarod whispered.

"Broots is taking care of everything. There is car waiting for us in the garage. It can't be traced to the Centre, so we should be able to last to get to the airport. And here," She handed him the new identification card Broots had made for him, and displayed her own. "Now all that's left is we wait until the video feed starts. It's not as easy as the room feed; if the Centre is paying attention they will notice something is going on with the hallway cameras. So, we only have about a thirty second window to get from one section of the floor to the next."

"That's not a lot of time," Jarod remarked, and Miss Parker shrugged.

"It'll have to be enough."

Broots signal was the lights in the hallway would dim just before the feed started, so Jarod and Parker crouched out of line of the camera until the shadows deepened. Then they raced past the camera into the next section of the hallway, ducking out of sight just as the lights snapped back to normal. It went this way for the first half of the sections, and Jarod and Parker breathed a sigh relief each time they made it through.

They were halfway to the parking garage when the inevitable happened. The lights didn't dim. After about three minutes, Jarod looked uncomfortably at Parker, and she shrugged.

"Would he have aborted?" Jarod almost mouthed the words; afraid he might be heard.

Miss Parker shook her head. "I know Broots," she replied. "It would take a lot to get him to abort. He knows our lives are on the line."

Suddenly the lights dimmed, but Parker's breath stuck in her throat when she realized that they weren't dimming in the section that Jarod and Parker needed to pass through; it was the next section over. She stared through the windows on the doors across the room, and looked back a Jarod. If they didn't go now, they would miss the feed time on all of the following sections, and then they would certainly be caught.

She looked up at the camera in their section, and took a breath. "We have to go, and just hope no one is watching."

Jarod nodded, and the two shot across the floor, skidding past the camera in that section and plunging into the next, lunging for the door before the lights snapped back to normal.

Parker's foot landed wrong mid stride, and she lost her balance, finding herself sprawled out on the floor. Jarod froze next to the door, a deer in the headlights, and before he could move back to help her up, the lights snapped back to normal.

He leapt over and pulled her to her feet, and before she had even completely regained her balance the alarm sounded.

"Okay, now we run," Jarod yelled over it, and practically dragging her, they ran for the next section. But even Parker knew that there wasn't enough time. 

They stumbled through, not even waiting for the lights to dim, not noticing that the signals had stopped once the alarm had been sounded. The two stumbled through, getting even closer and closer to the garage, and with every section they passed through their hearts lifted a little more.

The garage entrance door was in sight, and Jarod approached it first, Parker barely behind. He reached for the handle, and suddenly, the door flew open.

In the doorway Mr. Lyle stood, gun in hand. He smiled.

Both Jarod and Parker froze where they stood, their ears invaded by the screaming siren. Jarod reached out and grasped her hand, and she did not resist. Lyle stepped through the door and approached them, his gun trained carefully on Jarod.

"What, did you think we wouldn't be watching for something like this?" Lyle laughed, cackled really, and Parker's skin crawled. He stuck his gun into Jarod's face, and examined the man with narrow, angry eyes. "Where exactly do you think you are taking my sister?"

"Away from you," Jarod replied sternly. Lyle growled, and waved his gun a little, shaking his head.

"She belongs here, with her family… as do you, Jarod."

Jarod tightened his grip on Parker's hand, and, apparently unaffected by the gun in his face, said, "She belongs in a place that will make her happy, Lyle. You're her brother; her family. You should understand that."

Lyle took a step back and laughed again. "I don't know what kind of world you think you live in Jarod… but the world you live in doesn't involve freedom. Now, let's just head back to the interrogation room, and maybe I'll forget about Miss Parker's involvement with this."

If she had a chance to escape still, that was all that mattered to Jarod. He would have rather been burned alive than put her in any more danger than she needed to be, and she hoped he knew that. Jarod looked back at Parker, his eyes pleading, but she shook her head.

"I'm walking out of here, Lyle, and I am talking Jarod with me."

Lyle frowned. "Then I'm afraid I'll have to stop you."

He spun the gun toward Parker and pulled the trigger. She felt the bullet whiz past her ear, and felt a bit of blood on her cheek where the bullet had grazed her. She looked at Lyle with alarm, and reached up, setting her fingers over the wound, and pulling away her slightly bloodied fingers.

"Let's go now, Sis, or next time I won't miss."

Before she could reply Jarod was on top of him, pulling up his hand so the gun pointed to the ceiling. He tackled Lyle almost to the ground, and the two rolled about, Jarod trying to keep the gun away from himself and the direction of Miss Parker, while Lyle struggled to point it at either of them. Parker reached back and pulled out her own gun, training it on the two rolling figures, waiting for a chance to shoot Lyle, but afraid to in the case that she might hit Jarod. She had no qualms about putting a bullet through her brother's head; Sydney had once told her that she and Lyle took the idea of sibling rivalry to new extremes, and she could understand why. Most siblings didn't _really _try to kill each other. Of course, she and Lyle were not most siblings.

Suddenly a shot rang out, and Jarod flew back, rolling to the floor beside Parker's feet. With Lyle exposed, and without even a second thought, Parker fired a shot into Lyle's chest and watched his head drop down the ground, his gun clattering down beside him.

She let her own gun fall and knelt beside her where Jarod lay. A puddle of blood had already began to form around him, and she pushed him over so that he lay on his back. The wound in his chest had seeped blood, turning his dirty shirt a terrifying crimson, and a small amount of blood had already begun to run from his mouth. She gently set her fingertips onto his face, which was morphing now to look like Thomas'.

A scream stuck in her chest, and she pulled off her coat and laid it over the wound, pressing to try to stop the bleeding. She looked up around her, wondering where everyone was, the escape siren still pounding in her head. Jarod groaned beneath her.

"Jarod," She raised her bloodstained hands up to his face again, positioning herself over him so he could see her. "Jarod, can you hear me?"

"Go…" He coughed wetly, causing more blood to run from his mouth, and Parker shook her head.

"No, not without you. If you can just try and stand… we can still get to the car-" 

"No… I… can't…" He gasped, his eyes rolling into his head. He reached up, grabbing her hand and tightening his hand around hers. She looked around, wondering what the hell was taking the Sweepers so long to get there. "Go… before Sweep…"

"Shhhh," she said softly, kissing his blood-covered lips. "Quiet. I can't leave you here, Jarod. You know I can't leave you to die."

"Miss Parker, go!" She jumped at the voice, her head snapping up. Angelo stood there, across from her, his eyes switching maniacally between Jarod's bloodied form and Miss Parker's terrified stance. He glanced over as well as Lyle's motionless body, but his face showed no remorse for that scene. He turned back. 

"Broots and Sydney distract Sweepers. Miss Parker go!"

"Angelo, I can't! I can't leave him here!" She looked down at him again, watching his life fade from his eyes. She remembered Thomas, the things she had said, the way she felt when she was near him. She remembered Jarod's words, and how, after Thomas was gone, he had taught her to say goodbye.

She heard her name – her first name – escape from Jarod's lips. He whispered it again, and held one hand out to her. Inside it was the ID card she had given to him.

"Take it… to remember me."

She took it from his hand, and stroked his hair back, showering his face with her kisses. "I don't need a stupid ID card to remember you, Jarod." She squeezed back tears, shaking her head. "Don't you die on me. Don't you dare leave me like everyone else."

She lifted her right hand and slipped the tear shaped diamond ring from it, and opened Jarod's blood-covered hand, setting the ring inside of it. She pressed his fist shut, and as he looked at it, his face grimaced in pain.

"I can't… your mother's…"

"I want you to keep it, Jarod. Hold it, for as long as you can. As long as you hold that ring, you hold me." A tear slipped down her face and landed onto his, and he lifted a hand to her cheek.

"At least… least we got to say goodbye."

The echoing sounds of footsteps began to near, and Angelo jumped, looking out the door. "Miss Parker, go!"

"Go!" Jarod repeated. She looked at the door and back at Jarod, realizing that. "Fight. Fight for you mother, and for me." He smiled. "I love you."

She remembered Thomas, all of the regrets she had, all the things she wished she had told him and didn't.

"I… I love you, Jarod." He smiled at her, and leaned down, letting their lips meet one final time.

When she broke this kiss, he was looking up at her, but his eyes were empty. She choked out a strangled moan, and gently closed his eyes. Grasping his ID card in her hand, and whispered, "Sleep sweet, my love. You're free now."

She stood then, and looked at Angelo. "Thank you," she said.

"Miss Parker, go!"

She did, spinning around and not daring to look back as she slammed through the door and flew to the car. She started up the engine, and was out on the road before she dared to breathe again. She looked down at Jarod's ID card, cast on the seat next to her.

She covered her bloodstained clothes with a coat and caught the flight meant for her and Jarod without incident. When she reached the city, she went to the first hotel she could find and checked in. She peeled off her clothes and stepped into the almost scalding water of the shower, letting it cascade down her back and scrub away all the pain and sadness it could. Then, she put on a pair of Jarod's old pajamas she had kept from one of their meetings, and curled into bed. It was only then that she allowed herself to cry.

**********************************************

ONE MONTH LATER

Jonathan Fitzpatrick was sitting at his desk when the call came in that the woman had arrived. He told Melissa to let her through, and pulled out a cigarette, lighting it and blowing the smoke out, watching it float in the bright afternoon sunlight. The door opened, and his eyes met a tall, slim woman, walking gracefully through the door. She smiled.

He stood to greet her, offering his hand. "Miss Russell. Please, sit down."

She brushed her brown hair away from her face and took the seat. He leaned over, offering his cigarette case. "Would you like one?"

She smiled and waved her hand. "No thanks. I quit."

He grinned and set it down. "Smart girl. Now, my secretary tells me that you have a novel idea that I would love."

She smiled again. "I hope so, that is why I am here." She reached into the briefcase she had with her and pulled out a portfolio, setting it on the desk in front of the man, along with a copy of her resume. He couldn't help but watch her beautiful, graceful movements, and he wondered where this woman had come from. Jon reached over and picked up the resume, looking at is closely as he knocked ashes from his cigarette.

"Stunning. A English degree from the U of Maryland, and a creative writing masters from Yale." He set it down and flipped through her portfolio, and then looked at her over his glasses, crushing his half-smoked cigarette into the ash tray. "What makes you so interested in writing for my company?"

"I've looked around, and your books seem just the type that my idea might fall in to." She smiled. "You see, this story I have to tell, it's very important. And it needs to be told. I think that you people are just the people to help me."

Pleased, Jon nodded along. "I read the samples you left with my secretary, and I am very impressed by your manner of writing. I think, with a little more training, you could rate high on the bestseller list. Do you have a number I can call you at in case I need to reach you?"

The woman reached into her wallet, pulling out a card to hand to him. He noticed that with it, a small ID fell out. He didn't catch the name, but he did see the picture of a smiling young man, before she slipped the ID back into her wallet.

"What was that?" Jon pried, searching for a ring and wondering if she was married. Her eyes became sad, and he was suddenly sorry he asked.

"Just a little memento from another life."

He nodded, understanding her silence, and took her card. "Now, Melissa tells me that you have quiet a story pitch." He settled back in his chair, smiling, and lit another cigarette. "So please, shoot."

"Lovely." She said, her lips stretching in an uncomfortably familiar mock smile. "I have a story that just might knock your socks off. It all starts with a little boy named Jarod…"


End file.
